


a tale begun in other days

by alynshir



Series: mahariel march 2020 [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Gen, Multi, Pre-origin, SCRYING, look into the past, mahariel march, maharielmarch, samir mahariel - Freeform, shay mahariel - Freeform, shorrigan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:48:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23049586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alynshir/pseuds/alynshir
Summary: Morrigan and Shay Mahariel find an eluvian in the Arbor Wilds, and use it to steal a few glimpses into the Warden's past.Mahariel March Days 5, 8, and 9: Family, Learning, Journey
Relationships: Female Mahariel/Morrigan (Dragon Age), Mahariel/Morrigan (Dragon Age), Morrigan/Female Warden (Dragon Age)
Series: mahariel march 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1651786
Comments: 5
Kudos: 14





	a tale begun in other days

**Author's Note:**

> hello this is going to be a couple of parts and is going to be fun hopefully :-] come check out #maharielmarch on twitter!!
> 
> thanks to honey (@rivainitea / @amorezevran on twit) for coming up with mahariel march with me and the clanfam, and also for creating samir mahariel!!

“Okay. Walk me through this again.”

Morrigan clasped her hands together in preparation, and Shay crossed her arms from where she sat on the riverbank they’d camped beside, expectant. 

“I have … a theory,” Morrigan said, carefully, thoughtfully. “The eluvians were able to be used during the time of Arlathan, to travel nearly anywhere in existence. Through worlds.”

Shay nodded slowly. “Following so far.”

“So...effectively, this could mean that eluvians _could_ , if it were to be executed properly, be used to travel to different times in different places.” Morrigan paused. “And after what happened with the rebels and the Inquisitor at Redcliffe, we know that magic is capable on its own even now of such a thing. Of...time travel.”

Shay pressed her lips together at the thought. She’d only heard tales of what’d happened at Redcliffe, from Leliana and from the Inquisitor and from the Inquisition’s inner circle, but it’d sounded like a mess. An awful, miserable mess she wouldn’t want to go anywhere near, ever. Let alone bring her partner, or her son near. “So what do you want to do?”

“I want to see if it’s possible,” Morrigan said, a little smile coming to her lips unsummoned, a spark of potential alighting in her eyes. “I want to...attempt to use the eluvian in order to see back in time.”

“The timeline of this world?” Shay clarified.

“To start.” Morrigan’s smile became distant, became enthralled with possibility, and Shay couldn’t help the familiar feeling in her chest, that feeling of being full-up with some quiet, joyful, bubbling kind of thing that didn’t quite have a name. “I think it’s possible to see into the future as well, perhaps, if this works, but the future holds...more to be desired. Things haven’t happened yet to see.”

“Lots of variables,” Shay agreed. “How would you even be able to know which one’s the most likely?”

Morrigan shrugged, and glanced over her shoulder towards the elven ruins they’d camped by, here, in the depths of the Arbor Wilds. Although it’d taken some time to make their way so far in, especially considering the precious third member of their party they’d brought with them, it had been well worth their while; Morrigan had found a fixable eluvian here, amongst a plethora of other ancient elven remnants. Shay followed her partner’s gaze, and could see the barest hint of it's corner, poking out from the wild foliage of the jungle.

“It may not be possible to see an objective future at all. To attempt to see the future at all would take...some familiarity with controlling the eluvian, which I have, but specifically, familiarity with this particular vein of....” Morrigan searched for a word. “...scrying.”

“Okay. Alright.” Shay nodded, processing. “So...how do I factor into this?” She offered Morrigan a crooked grin. “Usually you come to me having already caused whatever trouble you’re going to cause.”

Morrigan rolled her eyes. _I cause no trouble._

Shay raised both of her eyebrows as high as they could go. _Really? That’s the lie you’re going to go with? How long have we known each other?_ Morrigan huffed in response.

“...To the point. Using the eluvian to see my own past is not what I want. I know my own past.” Morrigan wrinkled her nose, dismissive, but Shay could see beyond that, a flash of resentment, a flash of ire. _I have no desire to see what I have left behind._ “I want to be able to scry on pasts I have not experienced. If this works, it might be possible to see as far back as ancient Arlathan.” Morrigan’s eyes gleamed. Shay could feel a faint flush coming to her cheeks just on principle of the thing. “That is what I desire.”

“Gotcha,” Shay said, shaking her head a bit to focus. 

Morrigan raised an eyebrow at her, a smirk playing on her lips. _Distracted?_

Shay scowled. _You know what you did._ “So you want to try and draw off of me to see if you can display someone else’s...past, present, future on the eluvian. Right?”

“Exactly.”

Shay looked over her own shoulder, back towards the little camp, the little outpost on the riverbank that they’d made in lieu of home, to the smaller of two tents. In the quiet din of evening, she could almost hear the soft mumbling snore of their son.

“Should we wake Kieran? Let him know what’s going on?”

When she turned back to Morrigan, the witch’s brow had creased, conflicted.

“I…”

She didn’t have to say anything. Shay could see it, the surreptitious half-look to the eluvian, the sudden roughness in her voice, the way her hands curled into fists. _Not after what happened. Not after Flemeth. I don’t want him near it when we don’t know what will happen._

Shay reached up from her seat on the ground. “Let’s let him sleep.” Morrigan nodded, the sudden tension in her jaw abating, and she offered Shay her hand. Shay took it, pulling herself up and to her feet, and glanced towards the distance, where she knew the eluvian loomed. “How does this work?”

The two of them started walking, up the sloping incline, pushing through the thin veil of foliage that Shay had been working on clearing for the past few days. Faint drops of evening light trickled down from the Arbor canopy, dappling across the ruins, bathing their little copse of the world in amber-gold, and shining on the glass as they came to a stop in front of the eluvian.

“I am not even sure if it will work. This is experimental.”

Shay considered the mirror, with a now tried-and-true suspicion. She’d never liked them, not since the first time she’d seen one all those years ago, and still didn’t, despite that over time she’d slowly come to terms with their use and their capabilities beyond the blood-freezing fear of a catalyzing encounter with a corrupted one. Just because she understood them didn’t mean she had to like them. 

_It has done nothing wrong._ Morrigan gently bumped Shay’s shoulder with hers, entwining their hands. Shay half-looked up at her, trying not to seem too skeptical. 

_**Yet**. _

“Is this dangerous?” Shay asked out loud, and Morrigan half-shrugged, her voice suspiciously casual.

“Naturally, but it should pose no danger....so long as we do not enter.”

Shay sent her a look, elbowing her lightly. “Yeah? What happens if we do?”

“In theory?” Morrigan paused, her eyes flickering to Shay and then away, back up to the eluvian. “We will...potentially travel backwards into the timeline of our world.”

Shay raised an eyebrow. “Could that be useful?” 

Morrigan _hmm_ ed, thoughtful. “Undoubtedly. Were I alone, I would have long since entered. But…” Her gaze, softening, lingered first on Shay’s face and then drifted down the hill, softening even further as it settled on their little camp.

“So the risks are pretty high,” Shay surmised after a moment, and Morrigan’s attention returned to the eluvian.

“Not if we remain observers.”

“Okay.” Shay let go of Morrigan, and hooked her thumbs through her belt loops. “What should I do?”

Morrigan stepped forward towards the eluvian, considering the unassuming glass before turning back to face Shay. “I cannot scry to see your present-day, because you’re here, and it would just show...what our reflections would look like...so…” She pursed her lips. “I can try to look into your past, try and find moments that left strong remnants in...your life. Something that this magic will be able to find, because it was important to your character.”

Shay tried not to grimace too visibly. She couldn’t think of many happy moments that had shaped her character. Morrigan’s expression softened a bit from thoughtful to concerned, and she caught Shay’s eye, asking in no words, _are you sure about this? I want to do this, but if today isn’t right, I have no issue with waiting._

Shay shook her head, stepping forward decisively to stand by Morrigan, looking up at her as steadily as she was able to. _I don’t love it. But I’m good to do it. As long as we’re safe._

Morrigan dipped her head in a semblance of a nod, and began gently dragging the tips of her fingers over the surface of the mirror. Shay fought the urge to step back as beneath the glass, the familiar, iridescent mists of beyond arose, coming to life at Morrigan’s touch. “Ideally I will be able to do it without the presence of the person in question, but to see if it’s even possible, I would like an advantage.”

“So…”

Morrigan started tracing patterns Shay didn’t recognize from their travels across the eluvian, and Shay could feel a strange yawning in her stomach as the world around them seemed to darken, as the eluvian brightened, almost as if it were drawing the light in, claiming the last of the evening for itself as payment. As Morrigan let her hands fall away from the mirror, Shay could feel the crackling of summoned magic like the buzzing of cicadas rolling across her skin, the hair on her arms arching like a frightened cat. “Stand there. If we see anything, corroborate it.”

Shay could already see shapes forming in the curling smoke beneath the glass, could already see familiar trees being chiseled out of mist and shimmer. She stepped closer, just to look, and Morrigan grabbed Shay’s wrist, pulling her just far enough back to be safe, and -

The world around her faded dark for a terrifying moment, and then Shay heard voices, many voices, murmuring, talking, laughing over the crackling of fire and the wind in trees, and she could taste the potential of snow on her tongue and feel it, sharp in her nose, and the world around Shay was completely different and _she_ was completely different -

* * *

_You’re younger than you’ve been in years, barely past twelve autumns, crouching in the brush of the Brecilian, and you see him: the boy with Marethari. He’s younger than you by maybe a year or two, with dark hair, big eyes, beads of colors you’ve never imagined sparkling at his throat, his wrists, dangling from his ears. He’s looking up at her, talking away so fast you can’t understand half the words he’s saying, words he’s saying with an accent made of music that you’ve never heard before. Your mother had told you this morning about his arrival - had warned you, really; you’d never been very good with people, let alone ones you didn’t know - and said that he was going to stay. She’d offered to introduce you so it wouldn’t be so bad, but you’d said no, you’d left into the dawn, your shortbow on your shoulders, and you had been alone, you had listened to the creek rush and you had learned progress, you had watched spiders weave webs and you had learned patience, you had climbed the tallest tree you could find, and you had been alone up there, in the sky, and you had loved it…_

_But now..._

_You watch your Keeper introduce the boy to others; they are kind, of course, but they are wary, you can see it in their eyes, and you can see the boy’s smile fade each time as he reaches out to know them with his words and they do not so quickly reach back. You watch them make the circle, you watch the shadows grow long in the evening, you watch as the Keeper has the boy sit on one of the benches around a cookfire and watch as she leaves him there, as she goes to speak to your mother. You watch the boy swing his feet, you watch the boy snap at the beads wrapped around his wrists and his neck, you watch the boy tug on one of his dark braids nervously, twining it around his fingers, and you watch nobody speak to him at all._

_You like to be alone. You don’t think this boy likes to be alone, not so much as you. You glance towards the other children of the clan - they who mostly left you be, something you were thankful for - and you see them talking closely, you see Fenarel whisper something in Tamlen’s ear, and you see Tamlen glance over to the boy with curious eyes, nervous and intrigued, and you can’t read their lips but you know them, you know that they can be won, but that they do not trust outsiders, and this boy is an outsider, even if your mother told you he wasn’t to be, even if you mother told you that he was to be of Clan Sabrae, just like you._

_Except you know the story; you’re not truly from this clan, are you? You’re supposed to be, in your own way at least - it’s been yours as far as you can remember, and the woman who adopted you as her own and became your mother is here, and Aridhel of the Fallows chose you and not another who’d been born into Sabrae - but the necklace you never take off is marked by a clan that’s not this one, of a clan you don’t know the name of and of a last name you bear now. There aren’t any other Mahariels, not here, none that you’ve ever met, and sometimes in that way, you’re alone in a way that’s always ached, in a way that leaves you on the outskirts when brothers, sisters, siblings, cousins, cluster and band together, and you are left with no one. To be so lonely when you prefer to be alone is one thing, it’s something that you can choose, it’s something that you’ve chosen time and again and to be so lonely when all you want is to be alone is okay, you think - but what if you didn’t want to be alone? What if all you wanted was to feel safe and have someone at your back? You know that even though the clan children might not consider you close, you are fen’nas, you know the other fen’nas hunters would defend you if it came down to it, you have the Keeper, you have your mother, and you have Aridhel at the very end of all things; Ari would never leave you and she’d always be by your side and at your back._

_This boy doesn’t have anybody._

_You’re not sure how to go about this, really. You’ve never taken this sort of initiative. Ever. You can feel the little drummer that lives in your chest start tapping in your throat and you close your eyes, you can stand, you think, you can make yourself do that, and you repeat that to yourself, whispering it against the leaves you hide in, until you believe it. One foot, the other, the next, the other, and then you’re there at the edges of the campfire, and you’re there, and the boy is looking right at you, and you can see freckles on his warm skin, and you can see bruises on his wrists between the strands of beads, and you can see a desperation and a dawning question in his wide eyes that makes the little drummer in your chest start tapping on ribs._

_“I’m Shay,” you say, you think you say, anyway - it feels a little strangled, like the felandaur that throttles the oak trees, but you see the boy’s eyes light up, and he hops to his feet, extending his hand to you._

_“Andaran atish’an, Shay Sabrae,” he exclaims, and you shake his hand, something you’ve only ever seen grown ups do, and you think maybe you’re sweating. “I’m Samir!” he says. The name he calls you sits wrong on your shoulders, and you feel your heart going faster than a dragonfly’s wings._

_“Mahariel.”_

_Samir tilts his head a bit, and you notice that woven into the dark braids and curls of his hair, are thin green ribbons. It reminds you of spring and soil and new things, good things, things you can trust._

_“Mahariel? Is that your last name?” You manage to nod, and he grins. “That’s a nice last name. I had a last name once, too. Beira-Mar. I don’t know if I can use it anymore, here.”_

_What a strange thing to say. “Why not?” you ask, your curiosity overtaking the fear ricketing through you like a three-wheeled aravel._

_“Well, I’m here now, aren’t I? Samir Beira-Mar wouldn’t be here. I’m not him anymore. I’m.” Samir paused, and the brightness in his eyes falters. You wonder who Samir Beira-Mar would have been. “I suppose I’m going to be Samir Sabrae.”_

_Samir Sabrae. Not even the Keeper carries the clan name as her family name. Here, either people have old names, like yours (you assume; you’ve no idea who the Mahariels are or were beyond that Marethari has told you they exist elsewhere), or they have no last name at all, existing only as themselves, of their clan. To carry the clan name as a surname to you… it seems cold, it seems isolating. If Samir carries that name, you think, you’ll both be standing alone, on the edges, when families and histories bring the rest of the clan together._

_A thought occurs to you._

_“Mahariel,” you say, instead of the idea that’s come to your mind, and your voice gets caught in your throat, but Samir doesn’t laugh at you, just tilts his head in the other direction, and offers you a curious little smile._

_“That’s your last name.”_

_“It could be…” You clear your throat, and then open your mouth to speak, and then clear your throat again. Samir waits, and doesn’t push you to speak, just looks up at you, and you realize somewhere in the back of your mind that he’s simply just happy that you’re here, and expects absolutely nothing of you above your capability. “It could be yours. You could have it.”_

_Samir looks a little confused for a moment. “I don’t want to take it from you. It’s yours!” But then he thinks for a moment, and slowly you see the sun rise behind his eyes. “Oh! You mean...I could have it too? I could be Samir Mahariel...and then we’d be like...siblings!”_

_You nod, and he claps his hands together, nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet. “A sister? I’ve never had a sister!”_

_“And I’ve never had a brother,” you say, a little smile coming to your face. No one’s ever been so excited to talk to you, let alone claim association to you. “But you could be my brother. If you want.”_

_Unexpectedly, Samir’s eyes fill with tears, and before you know it he’s pulled you into a hug. You don’t remember the last time anyone’s hugged you, the last time you’d_ let _anyone hug you._

_“Yes, please,” he says, his face muffled against your shoulder. “Thank you. Ma serannas, sister. I’ll be the best brother you’ve ever had!”_

_You can’t help laughing a little, as your arms come up hesitantly around him, to hug him back. “You already are. You’re my only brother.”_

_Samir laughs. For the first time in your life, you think it might be okay, might be safe, might be good, not to be alone._

* * *

Shay’s vision cleared, and all at once she became distinctly aware of Morrigan’s hand choking the life out of hers. Morrigan’s eyes were wide, shocked, and although Shay could see hints of terror fading from them, a confused smile was spreading across the witch’s face.

“Did you see that too?” Shay asked, although she was fairly sure she knew the answer, and of course, Morrigan nodded.

“Yes! Was that -” Morrigan whipped back towards the eluvian, which looked just the same as before, innocent glass with shimmering smoke beyond, and then looked back to Shay. “That was when you met Samir. Truly? Is that what happened?”

Shay nodded, feeling the bemused smile make its way to her own face. She hadn’t thought about that in a long time. It’d been over twenty years since she’d gained her brother. It had long since just been a fact of the matter, and she’d nearly forgotten how it had come to be. “Yeah. That’s exactly it. It was like we were there. I mean. I was there. But you were too.”

Morrigan let out a delighted laugh, one that despite the absolute bizarrity of what had just happened, made Shay’s chest feel that golden, bubbling sort of way that it did every time Morrigan did much of anything. “It works! It _actually_ works! We must - we must try it again, we must see whether it can be controlled, whether we can specify what we want to see -”

“Yes,” Shay interrupted, taking Morrigan’s hands, grinning herself at the absolute enthusiasm radiating from her partner, “and we will, but that was a lot of magic. And a lot of new stuff. We should go write it down. And check on Kieran. And get some sleep before trying it again.”

Morrigan pressed her lips together, clutching Shay’s hands tight, and Shay could feel the witch practically bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“Yes. Yes, let us go then, let us - yes. Let’s. Tomorrow, then?” Morrigan asked, the overflow of excitement slowing for a moment as her eyes, practically glowing with the remnants of magic, eased into a softer curiosity. _If you are comfortable. It is your past. I know some of it is painful. I do not want to put you into a situation that you do not wish to be in._

Shay couldn’t help, then, leaning up and kissing Morrigan, just once. When she pulled back, Morrigan’s expression had softened, become almost sheepish, and Shay squeezed her partner’s hands.

“Tomorrow.”  
  


**Author's Note:**

> if u like pls leave a comment lmk what u think :]


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